Sons of Ironstorm - Book 1: Griffon's Rise

Old Enemies, New Friends

But, after the company had eaten an evening meal and had been shown to their tents, many of them found it hard to close their eyes on their bedrolls, knowing they were surrounded by elite soldiers of an old enemy, Hagen's Peace notwithstanding.

<<When was the last time you heard somebody declare a Hagen's Peace, Xan?>> Ciramax asked softly as he stared up into the darkness, flat on his back in the tent he and his friend were sharing.

<<The time before never, I think,>> the Lithosin warrior replied, her tone both sarcastic and uncertain from a pace away in the blackness of the tent's belly. <<In fact, I haven't even heard of it until today. What the frost is it?>>

Ciramax thoughtfully pursed his lips as he considered his answer. It was only his second time to hear the declaration, both coming from Wolf clan Sylvasin, ironically enough. Before Bruticus had called it outside the gates of Caeba, he hadn't heard it declared, though, as Crown Prince of Aquila, it had been part of his royal education.

<<Ancient tradition,>> he began, <<one instituted shortly after the beginning of the Exile, when Hagen found his people more concerned with fighting amongst themselves than building a society they could call his own. He used it to force peace between the warring factions, one of the few traditions to have survived intact to modern day. And one of the few we could remember since the loss of our lore and history.>>

<<And if somebody breaks it?>>

<<Then, by tradition, that person is hunted down by every other elf in the society, friend or foe. He or she can have no shelter or rest until they are dead.>>

<<Huh,>> Xanedra grunted. <<Rather draconian, don't you think?>>

<<It had to be, in order for it to work,>> Ciramax countered. <<Needless to say, it's only been broken a handful of times and those, very early in our history.>> He turned his head in Xanedra's direction.

<<Don't tell me you're actually thinking of breaking it, you big stone elf idiot.>>

<<Well, these are Wolf clan warriors we're currently surrounded by, Max,>> Xanedra rasped in reply. <<Can you truthfully tell me it hasn't slipped through their minds once or twice? Frost me icy, they've got the bloody king of Aquila in their hands, their greatest enemy since the Fall. Who wouldn't be tempted? I can certainly see one of those gung ho ranger lads making the sacrifice for kingdom and clan! A small price to pay to see Ciradaan dead.>>

<<Thanks a lot, Xan,>> Ciramax growled, turning his head to stare back up at the invisible ceiling above them.

<<For what?>>

<<For making it even harder to sleep, with logic like that.>>

<<Bah,>> Xanedra snorted once more. <<As if you were going to sleep anyway.>>

Despite the grim logic Xanedra had filled his head with, and his own apprehensions about sleeping in the heart of a Lusinoran camp, Ciramax soon found his eyes too heavy to hold open. Quite abruptly he was asleep. And, what felt like a heartbeat later, again awake.

But where it had been black as coal in the tent the night before, now early morning light slipped through the slit door to fill the tent with pale luminescence. Light that Xanedra thrusting her head through the door suddenly interrupted.

<<Well, Max? Are you going to loaf the entire day away? We've got an elftrail to travel!>>

This time Ciramax was the first to stand ready by the elftrail entrance, joined by Xanedra as they waited for their fellow sojourners to join them. They didn't wait long. Spurred by the urgency of the situation, the rest of the company rose with dawn's first light. They were ready and waiting by the time Fenoran and the company he chose from the ranks of the Wolf clan joined them.